


Mercies Mistaken

by Seralina



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Also the MCD tag is only for the prologue, Angst, At least not any main characters, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not planning on killing anyone outside of torturing John in the opening, It is TWD universe afterall, Lucille - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, The prologue is very John Winchester central but I promise the rest of the story is not like that, Though he will be an important character in the rest of the story, a+ parenting John Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seralina/pseuds/Seralina
Summary: AU From SPN 6x15 (The French Mistake) and TWD from 8x01 (Mercy).A story prompted by that fb meme asking who would win in a fight between Rick and Dean... here's the actual answer.  And yes, of course, it's more complicated than just picking one.Dean and Sam are sent to an alternate universe by Balthasar.  They emerge into a world full of zombies, as they battle their way to safety they hear the commotion of another group trying to help them... but Sam is accidentally shot.  Dean, thinking he's dead, swears vengeance against Rick and his group and takes off into the unknown.  Moments later Cas pops through the portal and has enough time to send one desperate prayer to save Sam, which is answered just in time by Gabriel as the portal closes off behind them.  Sealing them all permanently in this universe.  Stranded with no way to get back, the two now powerless angels wind up outside Alexandria's gates begging for help to save Sam and find Dean.(Oh and because OF COURSE it is: Destiel.)[A FicFacer$ 2020 Donation Piece!]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 25
Kudos: 18
Collections: FicFacer$ 2020





	Mercies Mistaken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenMaire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMaire/gifts).



> A little thought nugget for how to start this story got a wee bit out of hand.  
> I sincerely promise this story is not John Winchester centric, though he is an important character it won't really come up until later. However, this prologue is important in setting the entire tone of the story. This story pulls in elements of not only the SPN and TWD shows, but little bits of the comics as well. I intend it to be easy enough to follow even for those who have engaged with none of TWD media. Which, hi! If you're just an SPN fan who decided to come along for the ride, please yell at me if at any point something doesn't make sense. For your purposes think of this as an adjacent universe to 'The End'. A world where Sam and Dean were never hunters and everything has gone to hell in a handbasket.

John Winchester had lived a full life. He wouldn’t have said it was a particularly good life, but it had vengeance and all the things that go bump in the night. Which is why it was so full. He was so busy living life for the past, his sons got lost in the jumble. So he sold his soul just to save his son’s life. It was one of the only ways he really knew how to make amends with the boys he’d lost to the scuffle. He hadn’t been a father to them, not really. In blood only had he done them any good. He’d basically left Dean to raise Sam. John Winchester was a fuck up, so if going to hell was his future, he was going to try his best to fuck that up too. For his boys he’d reign down on those evil sons of bitches in the bellows. The ones who had ruined their lives as much as he had. 

Hell was every bit as bad as the baddest of the demon’s had made it out to be. With the creepy and disgusting Alastair as his torturer, John managed to withstand everything. He had made a promise coming down here. He wouldn’t submit. Any plans they had for him or his boys, he was bound and determined to fuck them up. Nearly a hundred years into his punishment was when the whispers really started. A gate was opening. Demons would be able to get out and extend their evil across the skin of the earth. He knew as sure as whiskey, his boys would be up there trying to stop it. He’d be even more damned if they did it alone. So he escaped. The infamous John Winchester, tearing through the demon scourge, fighting his way to the gate opening. When those doors burst open he got out there. Saw Ellen, Bobby, and his boys trying to close the doors. Saw the yellow eyed bastard that had started it all. He’d grappled the creature right out of its meatsuit. Distracted it long enough for Dean to grab the colt and deliver the killing blow. 

John felt himself losing connection with the world around him. Everyone was staring at him, at _them_. He’d wasted his whole life for this one thing, and his son had been the one to end it all. To end the cycle. He’d put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, looked over and gave Sam a small nod. It was over. He felt himself losing connection with the material plane, expecting his soul to finally move on to whatever came next. But something felt off. He glitched out of existence like a ghost, gold sparking around him. It felt fast and slow. There was nothing to see, feel, hear, smell, or taste. He was nothingness hurtling towards the unknown. Or he was completely frozen for the rest of eternity. 

Then he woke up. 

Where before there was nothing, not even the blackness of dreams or closed eyes. Now there was. 

A screaming headache split his head and that was something in itself because he could feel his head again. A steady, high pitched beeping noise next to his ear. He was laying down, but at a weird propped up angle that made his back scream. It felt like a hospital. As soon as he thought that he could smell it and taste it. Starchy sheets beneath him. Something stuck into the back of his hand, probably an IV drip. Something else attached to his finger, probably the heart monitor that was beeping steadily beside him. He had no idea how he was staying so calm.

He should be freaking out. This certainly didn’t seem like any afterlife he had ever read about. A purgatory situation would maybe have wound him up alone in a hospital. But then he wasn’t alone was he... Someone was holding his hand. The sensation crept back into that hand, a numbness he didn’t know had been there until the pins and needles sensation flooded down to his fingertips. He squeezed the hand back. It was small and familiar. His chest felt tight, his heart monitor sped up. John Winchester did not want to open his eyes. 

“John?” Asked an uncertain yet strong voice. John’s eyes flew open. His vision filled with short curly blonde hair. A very worried face with an adorably pointed nose, rosy cheeks, dark eyelashes. Pure beauty incarnate and the one person he’d missed more than anyone in these past 125 years. 

“Mary?” He asked with a choking voice and tears falling down his face. Purgatory be damned, this was heaven as far as he was concerned. Anywhere he was with her was heaven. He felt more tears tracking down his face. “Mary.” He tried to lean forward, he wanted to grab her face. Feel the smooth skin, kiss those lips, hug her against him. She was faster than him though, a firm hand pressed on his shoulder keeping him back. 

“Don’t try to get up John.” But she smiled at him, her eyes shining with tears. He’d never seen her cry, she’d always been stronger than him. Her grip on his shoulder was grounding so he moved his other hand to cover hers. He wanted as much of her as he could get. He smiled stupidly at her, he could feel it on his face. 

“I missed you. I missed this beautiful face. God, do I love you Mary.” She laughed a little at him, and put her hand on his face. He leaned into it, then turned and kissed her palm. She rubbed her thumb under his eye, soothing away the tear tracks. 

“I’m right here, John. Been here the whole time. I love you too.” She leaned in and he eagerly melded his face to hers, still crying like a damn baby as their lips met. His hands went to her hair, he could smell her and taste her again. It was better than heaven or hell, this was real. The woman he loved, alive again and in front of him. When she pulled back he could see the smile on her face, he could see the lines of aging he didn’t remember since they never got to grow old together. He loved them just the same but yearned for the years he had missed. He got lost staring into her face, those beautiful blue eyes. So kind and loving. “Do you remember what happened?” She sat back on the bed, giving him some space. Once upon a time she had known him so well, known how easily he’d gotten lost in her. Regarding what she said though…

“I’m in a hospital.” John answered which made Mary roll her eyes.

“I didn’t ask you where you are.” The sass in her tone made John smirk. 

“No, I don’t. Haven’t a clue. Was it important?” She laughed a bit at his cavalier tone. He could see the way she was calling him an idiot with her eyes. She could call him an idiot everyday for the rest of his life. Greet him with it everyday, a disgruntled- _Good morning Idiot._ As long as he was her idiot. 

“Yes, John. You were in a major car accident. You’ve been in a coma ever since. Do you remember now?” She squeezed his hand, using her patient motherly tone he had seen with Dean so long ago.

“Not a bit.” He told her, trying to be serious now that he had seen the worry in her eyes.

“Do you know where you are, besides in a hospital?” Her eyes were trained on his face, watching him so carefully. John thought hard for a moment. Only problem was he _hadn’t_ been in an accident, he’d been in hell. Sure before that he’d been in a car accident, a semi had hit the impala with him and the boys inside. He didn’t think what was going on now had anything to do with that though. The evidence of ‘no demonic interference’ was clear in front of him. Did he take the gift that was given to him? Tell her he didn’t remember. They would obviously state he had amnesia. It would be easy. 

Or he could tell her the truth… But that just didn’t seem possible. He would sound crazy. Talking about a life lived without her. Seeking vengeance for her, raising the boys on the road… and as a side effect, being a shit father. He sighed and she raised her eyebrows at him. John might tell her one day but for now.

“I could guess, but I can’t be for certain. I was having some strange dreams.” He told her and she just nodded.

“What would you guess?” 

“Lawrence, I’d hope.” Mary smiled at that.

“That’s good. Really good, John.”

“How long was I out for?” John asked which made Mary’s smile falter. She looked away and squeezed his hand tighter. She let out a breath like pressurized steam.

“A year.” 

“Wow.” He said, then chuckled. “Well, I thought it was 145 so that’s definitely better.” Mary turned to him quickly, shocked. “Thought I was in a whole other world.” It’s close enough to the truth that he didn’t feel too guilty. Mary eyed him warily, still watching him closely enough that it should probably worry him but he was just too happy she was there to even care. “If I’ve been out that long shouldn’t you have called the Doctor in here by now.” Mary startled and nodded her head, leaning over to press a button, she blushed slightly.

“You distracted me. It was nothing for the past year, John. Then suddenly you just squeezed my hand.” She smiled at him, it was warm and hopeful. “I thought I was dreaming honestly. Dean still comes every week, Sam comes when he can but I… I didn’t-” The door slammed open, nurses came flooding in, two doctors. 

“He’s awake?” One asked in shock.

“Hello John, how are you doing?” The doctor asked with a warm smile, she pulled a light out of her coat and put it in both of his eyes, flicking between them. 

“Just woke up from the longest nap of my life. I feel fine honestly.” 

“You seem to be very alert. You know who you are? Where you are?” The Doctor questioned further at which point Mary jumped in.

“He knows who I am, and who he is. But he’s unclear about where he is, and he doesn’t remember the accident.” The doctor hummed in thought.

“Potential amnesia sounds like, or perhaps just shock, it could still come to you later. If that’s the worst side effect after a year long coma, then you’re a very lucky man John Winchester.” The doctor told him, gesturing for her clipboard which a nurse passed her. 

“I already knew that before all this business.” John told the doctor and smiled at Mary. The doctor nodded, giving a small nod. 

“Well, we’ll need to run quite a few tests, just to make sure you’re alright. But if all goes well you might be able to go home tomorrow.” John grumbled slightly at that, wanting out of that bed sooner than the next day. He needed to figure out what exactly was going on. “I’m Dr. Vhlakavos by the way. Very happy to finally meet you, Mr. Winchester.” With that the doctor nodded and corralled all the other staff out of the room leaving just him and Mary. Silence settled over them. Something Mary had said caught his attention. She’d mentioned Sam and Dean. So they were here in this strange place too. Doing what though? Were there even monsters in this universe? Maybe no demons, but what about vampires? Werewolves? Ghosts? His brow furrowed.

“What are you thinking, hun?” Mary’s hand grabbed his again, thumb rubbing across his knuckles. 

“Our boys, Sam and Dean.” She nodded.

“What do you remember about them?” John let out a low whistle. 

“They were in my dream.”

“The one that was 145 years long?” Mary said with a slight smirk, John smirked too and laughed lightly.

“Yes. I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but I wanna tell you all about it when we get… home.” His throat choked up on the end, eyes watering. He hadn’t had one of those in so long. Not since the fateful night that consumed everything he once was. 

“What’s the last day you can remember for sure?” Her eyes narrowed, evaluating him. He shrugged, thinking of the day that split his life in to two parts, before and after. The last day things were still normal was…

“November 1st, 1983.” He told her and she gasped, her free hand going to her mouth. “To be honest, it’s hard for me to believe this is real, that… other place… it was my life and I think it might be similar to some of my memories here, but I don’t know.” Mary nodded, her shock passing.

“Do you know the date today? Because of your dream?” John tilted his head side to side, considering.

“I could approximate. May maybe? Of 2007.” Mary nodded, no longer shocked or weirded out, or anything John might have guessed. Just accepting.

“May 11th actually. Okay, more questions. What is Sam’s job?” She scooted up onto the bed again so she could rub his other arm, looking like she needed to be near him too.

“Uhh… a Lawyer?” John guessed. “I know he went to school at Stanford for it.” Mary nodded. 

“Do you remember his wife’s name?” That floored John. He felt his eyes bulge and Mary quickly caught onto his reaction, frowning slightly. “It’s okay, don’t worry. What about Dean’s job?”

“Don’t go telling me that boy’s married too.” Mary laughed and shook her head. The smile looked more real than the last. How was it possible that she always got more beautiful the longer he looked at her? “Uhh… no. I can’t even guess at that one.” 

“He is dating someone, but it’s a more… recent development.” Mary cleared her throat slightly and looked away. “I’m sure Dean will tell you about that though. In time. Oh! I should call them, I’m the worst mother ever.” John chuckled at her frantic moment, finding even her familiar forgetfulness endearing. 

“No you’re not, you’re the best mother ever and I’m sure if I raised those boys right, they’ll say the same.” She laughed at that and smiled at him again. 

“Will you be okay for a moment?” Mary asked with her hand on the door. John nodded and smiled, a gesture which she returned. “God, I missed you.” 

After she called the boys the day was a flurry of how many different ways the hospital could poke, prod, and scan him to make sure he was fine. His brain was all back online and functioning. He was diagnosed with mild amnesia, with the prognosis that he would start to fill in the gaps eventually. All his physical parts were present and working, if anything he was a bit weak from sleeping for a year. He’d need to hit the gym or something to start building back up what he’d had before he’d gone to hell, left there, and somehow woke up in this strange yet wonderful place. Well… he hoped it was wonderful. He’d have to do research, extensively. Call Bobby, and dredge up other old contacts. Go as deep as he possibly could to really figure this out. If it was safe here he wanted to know now, and not with his pants around his ankles in a public restroom. 

Mary drove him home the next day to their house in Lawrence. The very same house they’d picked out together and had burned down so many years ago, still there. His wife smiled at him and jumped out of the car to help him out, his legs were a bit shaky but the doctors were confident it would fade within a few days. 

“The boys should be here shortly, I told them to give you time to settle before they bombarded you.” Mary told him as she hugged him around his waist by the side, his arm settled on her shoulders and then he braced himself on the wall with his other arm. “Dean wanted to stay and help, but I told him I could handle it. I did marry you after all.” John guffawed at that. 

“Stubborn woman. You know I love that about you.” He could hear her sigh and roll her eyes.

“You’ve been givin’ me heart eyes ever since you woke up, I keep wondering if it’s gonna wear off.” Mary said wistfully as she pressed the button to close the garage door and opened the door into the house.

“I’m never gonna get tired of giving you ‘heart eyes’ or compliments or just love in general. I told you, it felt like 145 years without you.” John hobbled away from her by placing hands on the counter, then turned to look at the space. It was just a mud room but he still got that annoying sting coming to his eyes. Mary turned her curious eyes on her husband.

“Was I not a part of this dream of yours?” John sighed and looked away.

“Not the way you’re thinking I-” He stopped himself, toed his shoes off then gestured to the rest of the house. “When were the boys getting here? If we have time I’ll tell you most of it now, and you can ask questions when I’m done.” Mary nodded at him.

“Snuggle in the living room?” She asked with a little smirk, it made John light up inside and out. 

“You read my mind.” So together they made their way, John plopped on the couch first then pulled Mary in his lap sideways. She squeaked a little surprised at the action but then just laughed. 

“God damnit John. I shouldn’t be sitting on you, you’re as frail as your father after this year.” John completely startled at that. His eyes snapped to her face, even though the atmosphere was playful a moment ago she noticed the way he paled slightly.

“My… father?” John had gone tense all over. Was this the sort of place where nothing bad had ever happened to him or anyone he loved. “He’s...he.” John swallowed thickly, closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt Mary’s hand come to the side of his face, it relaxed him slightly, her thumb ran along the creases of his forehead and then stroked back into his hair. 

“Was he… not in your dream either or something? Had he… passed?” Mary asked him gently and slowly he peeked his eyes open to see her again. Truly an angel to even be putting up with this whole ridiculous situation. 

“No, he had left when I was a kid. Just went out one day and never came back. I think this amnesia thing is gonna be a worse situation than I thought.” Mary leaned in and kissed his forehead, her hand slid up and down his arm then stopped to squeeze his bicep. “What about your parents? In my… dream, they both died when we were still dating.” Mary squeezed his bicep a little more, then sought out his other hand so she could twine their fingers.

“Yes, my parents are still fine. Surly couple they are, my dad can be quite the ass still most days. I definitely prefer Henry if it’s any consolation.” Mary paused and John just baulked at the thought of his father, in his life. So much so that his _own wife_ liked him better than her own father. “John, it sounds like you lived a whole other life in that dream. Will you tell me about it?” He let out a breath and nodded. 

“I thought that was my life. My dad ran out when I was young, mom raised me until she’d fulfilled her duties. I think I reminded her too much of him, so she ran off to Maine to open her B&B… While I’m going through will you tell me what’s similar and what’s different just so I can start to get a grip on what I’m supposed to know?” Mary nodded and smiled slightly.

“Well, your dad never ran off. He and Millie still adore you, and their two grandsons. Millie does run a B&B, though it’s this crazy bunker thing outside of Lebanon. Henry helps her, but mainly just likes to read his books and keep the library and all the research he’s done organized.” 

“A bunker?” John asked incredulously. 

“According to you and the boys it’s pretty ‘Badass’ but it’s a little dark for me. The whole underground thing.” Mary shrugs, John considered that but just shook his head. He could worry about the human details later.

“We didn’t have much money growing up without dad to bring in the bacon. I worked young, enlisted, came back, and met you. We fell in love, I started working as a mechanic, and married you. Then we had Dean. There was a bit of a rough spot in the middle. Then we had Sam.” Here John swallowed thickly, barely ready to say what came next. “When Sammy was six months old a yellow eyed demon came to visit him. You tried to stop him, so he killed you and lit the house on fire. Everything burned, but the boys and I got out safe.” His eyes went away from her, over the back of the couch towards the stairs. He remembered how he woke on this very couch to the sound of his wife screaming. How he had thrust baby Sam into Dean’s arms. Mary didn’t say anything, just scooted in closer to him, curling up against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. His arms came up around her and squeezed so tight his muscles started to ache almost instantly. His voice choked on the next words. “I lost myself Mary. Losing you, the house, everything. I was a single father and a widower overnight. Plus it was some… monster that took you from me. I was confused and angry. I wanted to avenge you. I devoted my life to it, got lost in it.” He sighed. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it went. I became a hunter, I went after all the things that went bump in the night just so I could eventually find my way to the thing that took you from us.” Mary was so quiet, but her hand on his chest was busy, it went up to his neck and rubbed it gently. She used that hold and pulled gently to sit up slightly. 

“Now I understand. Why you’ve been looking at me like a man lost in the desert just found water. I get it though. I thought I lost you. This past year I didn’t have much hope, no one did. There was a semi… it hit the broadside of the Impala with you and the boys inside. You hit your head pretty hard but Dean had the worst injuries. He and Sam were both in the hospital with you for a while and it was like my whole world just fell apart. Sam managed to get on his feet the next day but Dean… He...He flatlined a few times. It ripped me open, I don’t know how Sam managed to hold it together for both of us, but he did. Dean eventually pulled through. Sam and I just kept switching whose bedside we were at. Then after about a month Dean was healed enough to go home. Sam and Dean’s friends took care of him so I didn’t have to choose who to worry about. But you… were just a big sleeping pile of nothing. They said you’d probably never wake up.” John couldn’t take it anymore. Her eyes had started to water and nothing hurt more than seeing her like this. He pulled her in close again. Kissed the top of her head, every inch of her face he could reach. He felt her breathing even out and she slowly sat up again, but she grabbed his hands just to stay as close as possible. “Tell me more about this monster hunting.” 

“To be honest, I don’t really want to if I don’t have to. It was horrible and bloody. I trained the boys when they were young, too young. Dean didn’t even really have a childhood because he had to raise Sam. I was off being an idiot, almost dying hundreds of times. I didn’t do right by those boys, didn’t even do right by you. Sam wanted out after he graduated highschool. He got into Stanford and I was so mad at him. We fought so bad. Dean tried to stop us, but it didn’t help. Sam left for college and Dean stayed. Wasn’t till years later and I’d ditched Dean, that I even saw my own son again. Dean had pulled him out of his early retirement and college years just to help find me.” John sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “I was such an idiot. Just wanted that son of a bitch’s head on a platter. Then one night, boys and I got into an accident. Sounds just like the one here. except over there the driver was a demon. He did it on purpose. Dean was… he was dying. And I couldn’t let that happen so I… I sold my soul to a demon just to save him. Not just any demon though… the same one who’d killed you was the one who took my deal. I died and left them to finish that stupid quest. I went straight down to hell with all these bastards who knew me, knew I hunted their kind. And they tortured me. A month down there it’s… like 10 years of their time. They wanted to break me, wanted me to start torturing other souls. I did a lot of thinking about the life I put those boys through and was damn sure not gonna cave to these evil creatures. It was a year of aboveground time before things started changing. Demons were whispering about a gate opening. I made a break for it, somehow I just knew that Sam and Dean would be out there trying to stop whatever evil was happening. I made it through just in time to help Dean end the fucker that started it all. Then I… woke up in the hospital.” Mary let out a long breath.

“Something tells me that is a seriously abridged version of events.” That made John chuckle darkly. 

“If you wanna know more I’ll tell you. I can remember all of it like I actually lived it.” _Because I did_ , John thought to himself. He was still positive that where he was now wasn’t his original life. 

“I’m glad you’re back here. With us. Everything about that place sounds like it ran you through a meat grinder and expected you to keep running. I mean… demons?! And what else, ghosts?” John nodded.

“Vengeful Spirits actually. Really nasty.”

“Vampires?”

“More than just two fangs. And they don’t die with a stake to the heart.” Mary cringed slightly at that.

“Werewolves? Ghouls? Shapeshifters? Fairies?”

“Well, I don’t know about that last one but the rest for sure. There were some good ones too. Psychics. Some witches weren’t horrible, though you could never really trust them. Then there were various pagan gods, rugarus, djinn-”

“Djinn as in Genies? What was bad about them?” 

“Poisoned you just by touching you. Made you dream of a world where you were happy as they slowly killed you.” Mary shuddered slightly. “I’d almost think that’s what was happening to me right now, if I hadn’t been dead five times over.” Mary put a palm to his cheek.

“This is the real world now, John. No more monsters that go bump in the night, besides horrible humans. I’m alive, our sons are safe, your dad never ran off. Though we are getting older now. Can’t help that much.” 

“Doesn’t matter to me as long as I get to keep staring at your beautiful face.” Mary laughed as she hit him lightly in the chest. From further in the house a door creaked open. It made John tense, instincts still high, until a voice called out. 

“Mom?” It was Dean. 

“Shut up idiot, what if Dad is sleeping? He’s still in recovery y’know.” There were some scuffling noises.

“Yeah, doubt it. The man slept for a year, I doubt he’ll sleep again for at least a few nights.” Well he wasn’t wrong, John thought to himself. 

“We’re in the living room boys!” Mary called and got off her husband’s lap, easily shoving his legs to the floor to make room then went to meet her sons. “Don’t worry, he’s as spritely as ever. Don’t bother going easy on him, that’ll just piss him off.” John chuckled at that.

“Yes Ma'am.” The boys responded in unison as they rounded the corner. They both froze as he stared at them over the back of the couch. John stood up slowly, still unsure of his leg strength.

“Well don’t just stand there like fish, come and hug your old man.” He barked half heartedly. Sam moved first, quickly around the couch and practically crashing into him. He looked mostly the same, half man half boy but somehow lighter. John knew exactly why too. He hadn’t spent his entire life running from the things in the shadows. He’d just had the normal life he’d always been meant to. With two loving parents who supported him. 

“It’s so good to see you, Dad.” Sam told him as he pulled away, then Dean came next. He was more gentle than Sam, slightly more in control of his limbs than the tall and awkward Sam. It seemed without years of training in fighting, Sam had turned into the clumsy nerd he’d shown traits of as a child. Dean in comparison was steady. He had that same lightness for the most part. His eyes had the same worried shine that his mother’s did. But mainly he looked sure of himself. Confident in a way that wasn’t cocky or boasting. Seeing his sons this way made him ache for the boys he’d left behind. The one’s he’d done so wrong who were probably still fighting the good fight a world away. 

“Yeah what he said.” Dean smiled at him as he pulled away, then gestured for his dad to sit back down and they all sat down together. Dean and Sam took the other couch, elbowing each other playfully the way brothers did. 

“So Sam, how’s Jess? Any grandchildren coming soon?” Mary asked and Sam laughed. 

“I told you mom. No kids until afterI finish law school and pass the Bar. I would be a shit dad if I was studying all the time.” Mary pouted at that. “It’s only two more years and then we’ll let you know.” John watched with interest, completely lost and yet completely happy. 

“Dean, you’ll have to bring Ca-” Mary started but Dean flushed and interrupted her.

“Mom, we can talk about that later. You didn’t even really tell us exactly what dad remembers. I know you said he has amnesia but… I just… Dad what do you remember exactly?” Dean narrowed his eyes at John. John wasn’t easily distracted. His son was trying to hide something from him and he’d figure it out soon enough. Supposed memory loss or not. 

“Well, to be frank. Not much. I remember an entirely different life basically. Some things were similar, some things were very very different.” John answered, dancing around anything that might be too heavy.

“Like what?” Sam asked, all puppydog innocence in that look. John sighed.

“Like I was a Monster Hunter and lots of other crazy shit okay.” The boys blinked at him, and as expected Dean cracked first. Laughing loudly and leaning back on the couch. 

“Ha ha Dad. We get it, you had some freaky ass dreams. But _monster hunting_ are you serious? Who does that?” Dean sassed.

“Crazy people who don’t really have too many reasons to worry about death. Or those who like tipping the scales in the favor of good and away from evil sons of bitches. Saving people, hunting things… it wasn’t so bad. The actual hunting itself. But the life around it? That was some steaming pile of dog shit.” Mary sighed and rolled her eyes at the phrase. He raised his eyebrows at her. “It’s true!” She just shook her head at him. And so the rest of the night went on. Eventually they turned on a hockey game just so they’d have something to watch… and subsequently yell at. Mary ordered them all pizza. John felt more alive than he had in years. His sons were fun and happy. His wife was snuggling up to him and giving him shit at every turn. It felt like a life well lived. Too bad it hadn’t been his all along. 

* * *

It was about a month after he had returned from the hospital that he felt totally himself again. Aside from that first week where he was still a bit shaky, he was able to hit the gym right away. He also returned to work, welcomed back by men he didn’t know to a shop that _he owned_. He told them he’d have to learn everyone’s names again, but he still knew his way around a car. 

“You damn well better, ya idjit.” Said a gruff voice appearing from a back room. Although he may have had disagreements with his counterpart, he was damn happy to see someone he knew from back when. “I doubt anything could knock that car know-how out of that stubborn-ass thick head.”

“Bobby!” John smiled, didn’t even care about being chastised.

“Oh what, you can’t remember all the rest of us ‘cause of that amnesia but you had a special clause put in for cars and grumpy old men?” Some whiney teenage kid said as he tossed an oil stained rag over his shoulder. John rolled his eyes at him.

“You watch your mouth boy.” Bobby reprimanded with a finger wag. “Or, you’ll be scrubbing oil for the rest of the week, not just today.” The boy grimaced and turned away, dejectedly going back to work. “The rest of you better be following his example before I stick my foot up all your asses.” It made John smile, the familiarity. Bobby gestured towards the backroom and they both headed that way. “Neat trick boy, did your wife remind you about me? She said something about you having some weird ass dreams during that coma of yours.” John shook his head.

“Nope. She didn’t say a thing. But you were in my dreams, weird thing about ‘em. Seemed to have all the same important people.” They stepped into a messy office together. It was a decent size. Two desks, two comfy black chairs, papers everywhere. 

“Sure as shit I’m important, ya princess. What exactly were you doing in this dream?” Bobby asked as he leaned to sit on the corner of what John assumed was his desk, so John did the same on the opposite one. 

“Well, actually… _we_ were monster hunters.” Bobby considered this with a twist of his mouth and bobbed his head side to side.

“Were we good?”

“Some of the best.”

“Hmph. Well, that’s enough of that fantasy shit. This is the real world now John, so tell me. Do you remember anything about how to do your _actual_ job?” John laughed.

“Uhh… I know how to fix a car. But all this paperwork and stuff? I had no idea we even ran a business together. I’m guessing we’re partners?” Bobby nodded, and John let out a low whistle. “We disagreed on a lot of things in my dream, mainly my parenting style. I used to dump the boys off on you, then run off to fight some evil fucker. It’s hard to imagine us working together well enough to own a business honestly.” Bobby laughed, a grumbly sort of sarcastic thing at that.

“Oh we still fight, don’t you worry yourself, Petunia. But why would you have been dropping your boys off with me? Where was Mary?” John sighed and tipped his head down to his chest. 

“She had died. In 1983. Killed by one of those monsters.” Suddenly John looked up at Bobby carefully, one of his hands was braced on the desk and sure enough on his ring finger sat a gold band. “So was Karen. It’s what brought us together in the beginning.” Bobby whistled at that, looking down at his ring finger.

“Nuff of that, let’s get to work showing you the boring stuff, then we’ll go have some fun with that camero someone brought in today.” And so they did. Learning the ropes of his job was relatively easy. All the paperwork, payroll, invoices, the lot… was relatively straightforward and mainly just incredibly boring. The guys (and a couple girls he later found out) were fun for the most part. Except Jeremy, he was a bit much, a dramatic young thing, and clumsy as shit. One night he was telling Mary about how he managed to tip an entire rack of tires when she gave him some information that absolutely floored him.

“Be nice to him, he’s one of your Youth kiddos.” Then she speared another piece of potato off her plate to continue eating her dinner. They sat across from each other in the kitchen, good ol’ meat and potatoes (Made by himself, Mary was a horrible cook) talking about their days.

“What d’ya mean by that?” She looked up at him and it was like she suddenly remembered.

“Oh shit, sorry. I forget sometimes. Umm, you used to be a youth coach. Before the accident. You coached a little bit of basketball and baseball, but you also helped with the ones who were on the edge of a shitty life. If you want to try doing that again I’m sure the school would be glad to have you back. It’s a few months off so you definitely have time to think about it.” She watched his face for a moment but then just kept eating. A month a whole month in this universe. No signs of anything abnormal or deadly outside of what normal humans get up to… and here he was… finding out he’d been a damn youth coach.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to think about that one.” 

“You’d be a real inspiration to them, y’know? Surviving a massive car accident, waking up after a year long coma… they’d probably think you were some superhero.” He knew what she was doing, trying to give him more confidence in himself.

“I’ll think about it, really. I promise.” He reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly in his. It made Mary smile. 

“That reminds me, Dean wants to bring someone over for dinner on Sunday.”

“The same someone you two keep avoiding talking about around me?” Mary paused midway to bringing more food to her mouth.

“Of course you noticed. Well, Dean’s ready to tell you now. He’s been really worried about it. He thinks you never really approved of anyone him or Sam brought home until Jess-”

“That’s because Jess can hold her own-”

“And you also weren’t exactly the _most_ accepting about Dean’s career choice.” John couldn’t argue that. If this had been his original universe and Dean had told him he was going to school for _musical theatre_ he would have died on the spot. His son as an _actor_. The thought was still ridiculous, he couldn’t believe Dean was making any good money on it way out here in the middle of Kansas. John felt at least somewhat justified to learn that his reaction the first time around had been worse than the second time, so at least the version of him that had been here before wasn’t a completely soft house-husband. 

“I’m working on it. I told you about how I reacted to Sam wanting to go to college at all in my dream… Dean never went.” Mary chewed thoughtfully before pointing her fork at him, an idea sparkled in her eyes.

“So that means you don’t remember ever seeing him perform, do you?” John just shook his head and continued eating, Mary speared another slice of food and pointed that at him too. “It changed your mind, he invited us to a performance his junior year. He was so nervous for you to finally see it. You _cried_ , just like you always do, you big baby. He’s amazing, and I’m sure you’ll feel the same way again.” John hummed, trusting his wife completely but still feeling off kilter. Some things in this universe were more alien than any whacky creature from his first one. Hell, if someone told him fairies were real it would have felt less strange to gank a tiny sparkly creature than contemplate his son potentially being one. “Anyway, you need to be on your _best behavior_ on Sunday. I don’t care if you’re still recovering, you’ll sleep on the couch.” John rolled his eyes.

“I’m fine now, I promise. I also promise I will try my best.” Mary hummed around a piece of food.

“You better.”

* * *

Sunday came, it had been six weeks since he had come home. They were planning a backyard BBQ so he could see all their friends again, but that would be for the Fourth of July which was still a week away. This would be the first time he’d be meeting someone he hadn’t known before, which made him finally feel like he had a leg up after weeks of everyone around him knowing more than he did. Now to meet this girl that had captured his son’s heart. Mary had told him they’d met back in October when Dean had needed a roommate after his previous one jetted suddenly shortly after the accident. They hadn’t started dating till around April, so it was still a very recent development. That was all he’d been able to get out of his wife though. Insisting that Dean would tell him more when he was ready. That one had always been a mama’s boy, and from what Mary told him he could never keep a secret from her. He was sitting on the couch watching golf of all things when the backdoor creaked open. 

“Mom? Dad?” Dean’s voice called out.

“I’m in the kitchen hun! Just pulling dinner out of the oven.” Making the one dish she was actually trusted to make, _Winchester Surprise_. Basically a heart attack in a baking dish. John got up to go help his wife, and also finally get introduced to this mysterious girl. 

“Mm, smells delicious mom. Thank you for having us over.” Mary was setting the dish on the center island when John walked into the kitchen, she gave him a stern warning glance. He knew exactly what that meant as he gazed around the room, he heard some scuffling from the mud room. 

“What did you leave her in the garage, son?” Dean flushed bright red, avoiding his gaze and rubbing a hand along the back of his neck.

“Uhh dad, about that..” It was then that a man with dark disheveled hair and bright blue eyes walked into his kitchen. He wore a white button down with a dark blue tie that hung askew. 

“Did you break up with her already and brought a friend instead?” John asked with a jovial smirk. Dean sighed and straightened up his back, eyes glancing over to the other man who was only slightly shorter than his son. Mary came up next to him putting a hand on his back which he leaned into. Dean cleared his throat and met John’s eyes, it made the strangest feeling of dread pass through him.

“Dad, this is Castiel. My… boyfriend.” Dean reached over and grabbed the guys hand but if the words had been enough the gesture was overkill. Mary’s hand hooked into his belt from the back to keep him in place, the message was blatantly clear. His son had just came out to him as a damn queer by bringing a man into the house with him and she wanted him to be kind. His brain was boiling at the wrongness.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester.” Castiel’s voice was deeper and gruffer than his was. He extended his hand and a pinch to his lower back made him extend his own.

“Call me John.” He managed to gruff out and they shook hands. He needed a moment. “I’ll be in the living room, call me when it’s ready.” With that said he totally didn’t sulk out of the room at all. Mary gave him a concerned look, but quickly turned her attention to their guest. 

“So good to see you again, Cas.” He heard her say to the other boy. He knew her, if she liked him she’d give him a hug, a quick glance back towards the kitchen confirmed this. John plopped on the couch out of sight of the kitchen trying to calm down his roiling thoughts. He wanted to be outraged, but he knew Mary would kill him if he scared their guest. No matter what he thought of this whole situation, he needed to act like a man and not a coward. But fucking god, his own son? _Gay?_ He knew that whole theatre bullshit did this kind of stuff. The Dean of _his_ universe never would have fallen victim to that whole agenda. “Cas, why don’t you help me set the table so the other two can talk?” 

“I’d love to, Mary. Where do you keep your silverware?” John could hear feet shuffling across the carpet towards him but he didn’t want to turn around. Couldn’t meet his eyes or even look at his face. He heard his son settle on the other couch. The tension in the air was full of angry lightning John knew he was causing. The silence stretched on for a moment before he couldn’t bear it any longer.

“So you’re gay. That’s what you two have been hiding from me?” He heard Dean shuffling on the couch and turned slightly to see his very stiff form.

“Uhh.. actually I’m bisexual.” Dean said in a very soft and obviously timid voice.

“The fuck does that mean?” John asked, glaring at his eldest son, he watched Dean swallow as he stared at the floor. Watched him straighten up just slightly to meet his eyes for a moment before looking off out the window.

“Means I like both. Girls and guys.” Dean rubbed his palms on his jeans and glanced at his father, watching for his reaction.

“Then why not just pick a girl? Wouldn’t that be easier?” Dean sighed and glared at his father, finding some steel in his spine apparently.

“You and mom didn’t like each other when you met, right? Used to fight horribly?” John nodded to acknowledge the truth in that statement. “So then why did you pick her?” John scoffed.

“I didn’t pick her boy, it just happened. You don’t choose who you fall in love with, you just get to choose whether or not you fight for them and stay.” 

“I didn’t pick Cas either.” Dean told him, his voice just a little bit louder and stronger. Conviction laid underneath it. The revelation hit John like a train.

“You saying you love him?” Dean blushed fiercely at that.

“I’m saying I’m not gonna pick some dumb broad. It’s Cas or nothing. And I don’t care if you get on board or not, you just needed to know. I wasn’t gonna hide it from you anymore.” With that Dean left the room and went back to the kitchen. So that was that. His son was… _bisexual_ and he was dating a man. Those were the facts. He had to take them or leave them. His brain was still rolling over everything, what Dean had said. If it’s true he didn’t pick Cas then there wasn’t much he could do, except wait and hope this phase of his would pass. Still didn’t make the thought of his son in a queer relationship any less disgusting. 

“Dinner’s Ready!” Mary called and stepped into the living room. “You good?” She asked so the boys couldn’t hear. “I know it’s not what you pictured for him, but give it a chance. See how happy it makes him.” John sighed and pushed himself off the couch, he didn’t say anything to his wife, but he’d show her he could try. As we walked into the dining room and sat down he spoke to the newcomer.

“So what kinda name is Castiel anyway?” The man in question looked up at him wide eyed, surprised to even be addressed, and sat down as he did. Dean sat next to Castiel and Mary sat next to him, across from Dean. 

“My parents are… hyper religious. They named all of us after different angels.” John considered that as he picked up his fork and dug into the cheesy goodness. 

“So did you just draw the short end of the stick or does one of your siblings have it worse?” John asked, fighting to make conversation. 

“Well, one of my brothers is named Lucifer.” John spit his food, Mary looked over concerned patting his back as he coughed out the surprise laugh.

“Now that’s fucked up.” John told him, Castiel just shrugged.

“John!” Mary admonished him, but he also just shrugged.

“It’s a surprisingly fitting name, considering he’s in prison.” Castiel said like it was the most blasé thing. Dean choked slightly. 

“Maybe not the best dinner time conversation, right Cas?” Dean asked him and Cas’ eyes widened when we looked at Dean, as if just realizing what he’d been talking about. 

“Why don’t you tell us more about your job?” Mary prompted with a smile. Cas nodded and swallowed, glancing warily at John.

“I’m a writer. A playwright slash screenwriter to be specific.” 

“Oh? How did you get into that?” John asked, the more he pretended this was easy the easier it got.

“My father’s a novelist actually.” Castiel continued easily. “I was the playwright for one of Dean’s shows in college, it’s how we met and became friends.” Cas gave Dean a smile so sweet it was likely to cause a cavity. John couldn’t tell if it made him sick in general, or if it was the way Dean smiled back that made him nauseous. He knew that look on his son’s face, he’d seen the same look a thousand times on his wife’s own face. Dean was a goner and Castiel looked the same. John would try to be pleasant, but he couldn’t say he would ever be totally okay with a thing like this.

* * *

It was a year into this strange monster free life before John could truly relax. He’d researched everything he possibly could. Even took a few weekend trips with Mary to investigate things. She always tolerated the crazy and assured him that if it would make him feel better to line the windows with salt and paint strange sigils under their welcome mats, he was welcome to do it. But on the anniversary of him waking up in that hospital with his wife by his side he finally let it go. He’d still be John Winchester, ever alert hunter, but he wouldn’t actively seek out the things that go bump in the night just to see if they were there. He told Mary he was done worryin’ about that shit and she’d hugged him, told him how proud she was he’d come so far. 

Their relationship flourished. According to Mary it was better than it had ever been in years. John had even started coaching baseball again, but he couldn’t do basketball. Three times a week surrounded by sweaty teenage boys that weren’t his own sons was plenty. Nevermind the fact that his boys were quickly becoming men in their own right, no longer teenagers at all. Dean still dated Cas, and although it was a sore spot of his still, he’d gotten used to having Cas around. He was odd, his family were estranged, but he was strong. Apparently he knew how to kick Dean’s ass as he had grown up learning every type of fighting and martial arts he could. The one time he’d gotten Dean to join a beginners karate class Cas had landed him on the mat in less than 3 seconds. In that respect, he liked Cas. Neither of them acted like a _queer_ so it was easy to be around them. Their PDA was very mild, they never kissed in front of him and only occasionally touched or held hands. A small part of him did recognize how good Castiel was for Dean, but he wouldn’t ever admit that to his son. His wife could tell though, he’d grown soft. And all it took was a damn year.

* * *

It was another year later when Sam flew back home from California, he’d just passed the bar out in Stanford completing his law degree. Everyone was over for dinner at the Winchester’s. Dean and Castiel were there too, it only bothered John a little bit these days. It was easy to get used to him considering Dean made a habit of treating his mother so well. Always showing up to take her accompany her shopping, or help her with the garden, or just cook them both dinner. On his rare extra good days, he even started to consider Castiel somewhat a third son. At this particular dinner everyone saw fit to drop bombs on him. He’d been back for 2 years, he was considered officially recovered and that it was unlikely he’d ever get all of his memory back. Just at the end of dinner, right before the plates were cleared Sam announced that him and Jess were moving back to Kansas. It was great news, Dean was probably most excited, the brothers were very close which made John happy to see. Then Sam added, much to Mary’s delight that Jess was expecting.

The glow that surrounded Mary that night was so new and different. She was unbelievably excited to be a grandma, but that didn’t stop her from nagging the next couple in line. 

“Don’t think you two not being able to reproduce on your own gets you any sort of pass.” She had said and pointed accusing fingers at Dean and Cas. The latter had his arm draped around Dean’s shoulders and started laughing while Dean spit his water all across the table and turned bright red. Mary decided that night it was the brother’s turn to wash up everything, which everyone knew would take a while as they often got into play fights. So Jess stayed behind to monitor things were actually getting done. That was how Cas ended up in the living room with both elder Winchester’s. 

“I need to ask you both something, and I don’t mean to pile more onto your plate, but I don’t wanna put it off any further in case I lose my nerve.” Mary gave him a puzzled look but Cas just gestured for them both to sit down. John grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her to sit, his heart was beat heavy in his chest even if he didn’t entirely know why. 

“Go ahead, Cas” Mary said with a smile, and gently squeezed her husbands thigh as she sat down next to him. Cas also sat, nearest to them on the other couch.

“I want to ask Dean to marry me. And I don’t necessarily want your approval, as I find that an antiquated ritual. But I wanted to let you know... and if you had any suggestions, that would be greatly appreciated.” Mary’s hand flew to her mouth and stifled a small gasp. John froze and stiffened slightly. 

“Oh, Castiel. I’m so happy for you two.” Mary jumped onto the other couch to hug him, Cas which made the other man laugh. When Mary pulled back from him she put her hands on his face. “No matter what you do I know he’ll say yes. I’m so excited to finally be able to call you my son.” John watched in awe as Castiel’s eyes misted up at the comment.

“Thank you, Mary.” And then he pulled her in for another hug. He had to move, had to do something or he would be getting an ear full from Mary later. So he stood, albeit stiffly, and walked over next to the two. Cas pulled back from Mary and looked up at John. John just clapped him on the shoulder once and then gave it a squeeze.

“You’ll be fine, kid. Just keep my son happy and I’ll have no issue. You ever break his heart and I will hunt you down.” Cas sat there just gaping at him.

“John.” Mary admonished, but it had no heat because she was smiling. She rubbed Cas’ arm and he got the gumption to stand up. He shook John’s hand firmly, and John even managed to give him a small smile. Then Cas nodded to both of them and went back to the kitchen. Mary looked into his eyes and he noticed for the millionth time that they were so beautiful and blue. Her arms wound up around his neck and his went around her waist. “That was the right thing to do.” John sighed at that.

“It’s still not an easy thing to get used to.” Mary nodded and leaned up to kiss him. It was sweet and soft, almost too perfect. 

“I love you for trying. Dean was so worried back when you were in a coma that he had to come out to you again. And this time he was actually _serious_ about a boy. Both of our sons are starting families. You should be proud of them.” John sighed and leaned his forehead against his wife’s. Despite the weirdness of this universe, the peace was like a balm to his soul. Even the mild discomfort of his son dating (And soon to be engaged to) another man, was nothing compared to the life he’d led them through the first time around. He had never believed in second chances before he came here, but he was thankful everyday. Somedays he even wondered if in this place he’d be able to die of old age, peacefully in his bed. It was a fool’s dream before, hunter’s never got that old. But now…

“I am proud of them. Both of them.” Mary smiled and leaned back so she could put her hands on his face.

“Then you should tell them. _Both_ of them.” And she playfully smacked his cheek. It made him laugh. The boys came running into the room just then, Dean wielding a wet dish towel as he attempted to slap Sam’s ass with it.

“Dean! DEAN! This isn’t funny anymore! We’re adults!” That made Dean laugh as he vaulted over the couch to head Sam off. They were opposite of eachother, only the coffee table in between them, waiting to see who would head in any direction first.

“That’s boring. Stop being _boring_ Sam, you have to be _fun!_ After all, you’re gonna be a dad soon.” A mischievous glint came to Dean’s eyes and Mary spoke up before he could put the plan into action. 

“Dean Winchester you better not be about to jump over my coffee table too.” Dean wilted slightly which made both parents laugh. “Look at you two running around inside like this.” Mary walked a few steps away to what appeared to be an ottoman, then she flipped it open and produced two moderate sized nerf guns which she tossed to her two boys. “Take it outside.” Dean had a thousand watt grin as he tossed her the rag. 

“Mom, have I told you recently how much I love you and you are clearly the best mom on the _entire_ planet?” 

“Yes, Dean. You have, but I always love hearing it again.” She dropped the wet rag on the coffee table and produced two more guns for Cas and Jess, and two more even for John and herself. “But you should probably start running.” Mary said and cocked her gun, John marveled wondering when the _hell_ she had even put the things there, or bought the ottoman to hide them in.

“I thought they only did this stuff around the holidays.” Jess stage whispered to Cas, which made him laugh. 

“You should try living with Dean.” Cas responded and cocked his own gun. “You always have to be prepared. I think he gets it from Mary.”

“I’ll stick with Sam thanks.” Jess laughed and checked her foam bullet supply, barely stepping out of the way as Dean and Sam ran for their lives with their mother hot on their heels. “But if this is the secret to looking as good as Mary when I’m her age, I’ll take it.” That made both John and Cas laugh as they all walked out more calmly together. Which turned out to be a bad decision as the other three had teamed up to ambush them as soon as they stepped out the sliding glass door into the backyard.

* * *

Dean and Castiel were married that November, surrounded by friends and family. Castiel’s father showed even. He was a squirrelly man named Chuck who was just as erratic as Cas had made him sound, mostly just muttering to himself about future plotlines, it was okay since he kept to himself. His mother didn’t approve of his status in a queer relationship, nor did most of his siblings (And seriously there were seven on them). But two did show, Gabriel and Anna. Anna was exceptionally pleasant and well mannered… Gabriel, or Gabe as he prefered to be called, was not. He had so much energy in such a small frame, said sexual innuendos every other sentence, and was the self described life of the party. 

Both Gabe and another man named Balthasar were Cas’ groomsmen. Dean had elected for Charlie, his best friend, and of course Sam. Mary told him Dean had been in his brother’s wedding as well, John was sad he couldn’t have experienced that day himself. But Mary promised to show him pictures and videos when they got home. 

Overall it was a beautiful day, he’d never seen Dean happier. He hadn’t seen it at first, when Cas had first started coming over for Sunday dinners he’d still been so clouded by anger and confusion. That and Dean had still been nervous about how he could even act with Cas. But up there at that altar with Ellen officiating, his son was glowing. It was just him and what was clearly the love of his life. Since he’d had Mary back in his life he’d become the biggest sap all over again, she softened him in the best way. They both cried during the two men’s vows, there was something deep there, something so rare and precious. Even his own thoughts were sappy and poetic. When Dean and Castiel kissed for the first time in front of him it was at their wedding up on that altar where the rest of the world didn’t matter to them. It made the last vestiges of John’s deep seated problems crumble, he glanced over at Mary to grab her hand and kiss her cheek. His lips moved a few inches over to her ear and he whispered.

“Thank you.” She turned to him with confused but happy eyes.

“What for, John?”

“For making me the man I’m supposed to be. A good one. I love you.” Mary smiled and kissed him quickly. Then it was time to cheer for the new couple. Gabriel, Sam, and Charlie were whooping after them, Balthasar swaggered down the aisle laughing. John wrapped his hands around Mary’s waist from behind while she kept clapping. He silently thanked whoever was listening for his second chance, his life here was beautiful and happy. Sometimes he still worried about the boys he left behind. He wondered if they’d ever find happiness, or even peace. He wished they could see this and know that in some universes, their family lived a happy life without tragedy. 

He hoped they knew how proud of them he was too. 

* * *

Lucille Evelyn Winchester was born on December 17th, 2009, with ten tiny perfect fingers and ten tiny perfect toes. A new sense of warmth blossomed in John’s chest when he held the little girl for the first time. She had Jess’ blonde hair and Sam’s hazel eyes. She looked at you like she could read your mind.

“He’s smitten. I don’t think you’ll be getting your daughter back anytime soon.” Mary laughed and kissed her daughter-in-law on the forehead. “You did amazing sweetie. And thank you both, for naming her after my grandmother it was very sweet.”

“Actually, Mom, we named her after you.” Mary turned surprised eyes on Sam. “I mean, we didn’t want to name her Mary, that would have been too confusing. But Jess liked your middle name, and so did I. We figured Lucy would be the perfect nickname for her.” Sam turned a sweet smile towards his father where his little girl laid in her grandfather’s arms. Mary came around and hugged her very tired son, who was now a father.

“Come on, Dad! I want a turn too.” Dean whined, coming closer to his father who swiftly turned away and towards the window. 

“You wait your turn boy, elders first.” Said Bobby from the only comfy chair in the cramped hospital room. 

“We used to call my brother that occasionally just to piss him off.” Castiel piped in making all eyes turn to him.

“You used to call Lucifer... _Lucy_?” John asked incredulously and scoffed. “No wonder he’s in jail, that would make any man murderous.” Cas simply shrugged.

“Boy, you have one weird ass family.” Bobby added, that made everyone laugh.

“My family includes all of you… so if the shoe fits.” Cas gave another shrug with a pointed look at Bobby. Everyone burst out laughing again at the shocked look on Bobby’s face, Dean especially coming over to kiss his husband’s cheek. 

“When did you start teaching Cas to sass people, Dean?” Sam asked, eyeing the couple suspiciously. Dean merely shrugged.

“Cas has always been the sassy one, y'all just don’t get the brunt of it. _I do._ ” Dean told them all, throwing a fake annoyed look at Cas which made the latter smirk.

“Idjits. The lot of ya-” John chose that moment to pass Lucy to Bobby, which softened the gruff old man’s tone. “Except you, little one. I’m still undecided on you. Could be the smartest Winchester yet.” It was always in these moments that John found himself reaching for Mary, he reached for her a lot as is, but these moments when his heart filled his chest to the fullest point he just needed her, so they could share it. But this time she gave him a look then swiftly darted her eyes between their two sons. He nodded his head acquiescing and stepping towards Sam.

“Son?” 

“Yeah Dad?” 

“I hope you know how proud of you I am. Cause I am… proud of you.” John’s eyes shifted to Dean, who was listening carefully. “Both of you.” He put a hand on each of their shoulders and watched in awe as each of his sons, both now men through and through, smiled with an inner pride that he had just given them. Then they met each other's eyes and something much more frightening passed between them.

“Aww Dad.” Dean said.

“Yeah you big sap. You’re supposed to hug us.” Sam added and with that they both crushed him from either side as if they were boys and not men. It made John laugh and admonish them half heartedly as they picked him off the ground and spun him around. The whole room was laughing again, except Bobby who sat in the corner with the tiny bundle in his arms.

“Yes, they’re all idjits. But they’re our idjits.” He told her softly. 

* * *

No matter how fully settled he was into this new safe, monster free, peaceful life of his, his reflexes never quite relaxed. He was a light sleeper, tensed at any suspicious noise, and on the worse days he felt a sense of heavy dread. The other shoe had to drop eventually, this life couldn’t be that perfect. It would be three years in a month. Those were the bad days and Mary was always there to pull him out of the funks. Promising him he was safe and he didn’t have to hunt monsters anymore. Over the years he’d told her most of it, sparing her only the absolute worst, she’d truly been his partner through it all. Even the occasional nightmares that happened. Once upon a time they had been about ‘Nam. Now they were always filled with the blood and gore of a hunt gone wrong. Mary told him it was PTSD, and with time it would get better. Most days he believed her.

He should have known though, it wasn’t PTSD, simply intuition. He knew the other shoe as soon as it dropped, it was a crashing noise coming from upstairs in their bathroom. He’d rushed upstairs and knocked on the door, when Mary hadn’t answered he’d begun to panic and carefully opened the door. He saw blonde hair peeking out from around the corner of the door and a smudge of red on the counter. He pushed carefully since she was blocking the door from where she’d collapsed. He’d called her name, checked her pulse and was relieved to find she’d only passed out. It was the blood that was concerning, after she didn’t wake up in a minute he dialed 911. He rode with her in the ambulance on a sunny Saturday in April, she didn’t stir at all.

Mary didn’t wake up till the next day in the hospital, it had been more than 24 hours and John’s nerves were frayed. The boys had been for visiting hours and he’d sent them both home, all of them were a mess without Mary as a buffer. When she came to she was groggy, not coherent really except for one thing.

“This seems topsy turvy. Aren’t I normally sitting there?” It made John chuckle a small laugh full of the stress he’d endured the last 24 hours, when she was out again he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. He fell asleep that night with his arms pillowed on her bedside and woke to a strange prodding sensation near his eyebrow. 

“Mmpfh?”

“I’m hungry. When are they bringing breakfast in this place?” John sat straight up hearing that clear voice.

“Mary!” He grabbed her hand that had been poking him and kissed it softly. “I don’t know, what time is it? And how are you feeling?” She gave him a little frown.

“Not too great hun. My head and my body ache. How long was I out?”

“Bout a day and a half.”

“Hmm, good thing I didn’t beat your score.” John scoffed at that.

“I don’t know how you did this for a year, I lost my mind after the first hour.” Mary just shrugged.

“It got easier with time. Do they know what’s wrong with me?” John frowned and gave her a grim nod. 

“Yes, but they wouldn’t tell me. They wanted you to hear it when you woke up.” John said sounding annoyed which made Mary laugh, but it quickly dissolved into a frown.

“You’ll be okay, hun. You’re strong.” Mary told him and patted his cheek.

“Isn’t that what I should be telling you?” Mary just smirked at him, an all too knowing thing. “Smartass.” He told her and she laughed, a sound that made John felt warm again for the first time in 24 hours.

The doctors came by around noon and John already knew something was off.

“I wanna hear what they have to say alone.”

“Like _hell_ I’m about to let you face this-”

“You’re not _letting_ me do _anything_ . You’re _respecting_ my choices as your wife.” Mary told him firmly. That drew John up short, because she was always right, she deserved his respect and his trust. If she said she wanted to do this alone, he had to give that to her. Mary sighed and passed him his cellphone. “Go call the boys, tell them to come visit me ‘cause I’m bored and they’re not gonna let me out anytime soon.” John nodded and leaned in to kiss his wife. 

“I love you, Mary.”

“I love you too, John.”

The boys came, with their spouses and little Lucy. Once they had all settled Mary told them what the doctors had told her.

“They had a talk with me earlier, and it wasn’t pleasant. I want you all to know that no matter what I’m going to fight this-”

“Fight what, mom?” Dean asked with a monotone voice.

“Boy be quiet, don’t interrupt your mother.” John told him and his son’s lips pressed into a thin line, Mary reached over for his hand and he easily offered it to her, giving her a squeeze.

“It’s Pancreatic Cancer. Stage 3. I’ve already scheduled myself to get any treatment I can, but it’s one of the deadliest cancers there is. So I need you all to be good for me, don’t get weepy on me until after I’m gone if this is it. I need you all to promise me that.” The room was dead silent, John sniffled lightly trying to stop himself from crying more. He’d known the other shoe would come, he just didn’t think it would smack him upside the face with something so… human. Dean had a single tear track going down his face and he was holding Castiel’s hand so fiercely it must have hurt. 

“We promise, mom.” Sam told her, first to speak in the room as Jessica nodded beside him. 

“What he said.” Dean added in a choked voice, though he couldn’t look up at his mom right now. 

“John?” Mary asked quietly, squeezing his hand lightly. He looked over at her with eyes he knew were bright red from fighting back tears, into her steady blue ones. He couldn’t say anything, just leaned in and kissed her forehead. 

“What’s the situation with the tumour?” Jess asked, coming up to sit on the bed next to Mary while Lucy slept quietly in her car seat, no idea of the family turmoil around her. “I am a nurse after all, I’ll make sure you get the best.” Mary reached out to grab her hand and squeezed it. 

“Thank you honey. And it’s, uh. Well, it’s wrapping around an artery right now so they can’t operate. The hope is with the chemo treatments it will shrink down enough to be able to operate. Then we can re-evaluate.” Jess nodded, a confident smirk on her face.

“You’ll pull through this Mary. That’s why we named our daughter after you, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” Jess leaned in then and Mary hugged her back easily. Next to them John’s heart was breaking, he could feel the old him creeping out of hiding where he’d carefully tucked him away. He didn’t want to be jaded, or vengeful. Not like he could physically fight the cancer anyway. He wanted to be the best man possible for his wife up until the day she died. That was what he had promised himself once he realized he got to have _this._ Though when he made that promise he always pictured himself being first to go, it would have been a nice change. But he didn’t get nice, that wasn’t the way things went for him.

* * *

The next six months were tough, he wouldn’t call them hell because he’d actually been there, but it was close. Most of his torture in hell had been physical, and while Mary was going through physical hell, his was all emotional. There were nights he’d find her crying on the bathroom floor from the pain, having just puked up yet another meal. A side effect of the chemo.

In June her hair started to fall out rapidly, so she shaved it one night with his electric shaver. Castiel got her a collection of knitted hats all with different designs, and she wore them proudly when she was cold. Otherwise she sported her bald head proudly. She wouldn’t be shamed just because she didn’t meet beauty standards.

“I’ve got cancer, I don’t care about looking pretty anymore. I just wanna live.”

Her mood wasn’t always so strong, there were days when she would sleep for hours on end. John worked less at the shop just to take care of her. She hated it, even though she needed it. He also took the time to make all of her good days as amazing as possible. He cooked fun meals, planned silly and extravagant dates. They even traveled to Paris, London, Disney World, and New York City. Besides the ups and downs of chemo side effects, she didn’t really slow down.

Until the Fall.

The tumor hadn’t shrunk at all, meaning none of the treatments had worked. The best they could do was pain management. John wanted to scream the day Mary Winchester signed her DNR, he wanted to rage at her to keep fighting.

“I haven’t given up, John. But I won’t force you to keep watching a dead body. This isn’t like you and your coma. If I go I’m not waking up again, there isn’t a cure for cancer. Besides, our boys are gonna need you. You need to live your life and not devote it to some carrot of a wife.” Mary told him with a dark water laugh.

“Don’t see yourself short, hun. You’re, at the very least, cheese covered broccoli.” He didn’t know how he managed to joke at that moment, but it was worth it when she laughed and hit him lightly on the arm. She was right, she was always right.

“I want a funeral. But I want it before I’m gone. After I’m gone I don’t care what you do, but I want this.” John gave a weak smile, nodded, and set to work planning. “But let’s call it a Death Party.” She said with a mischievous smirk. He texted two people he trusted to get this done right, Jess and Cas. Then he texted Cas to contact the one person he knew could keep them all laughing through the tears, Cas’ brother Gabriel who had strangely grown on him over the past year. 

It was a perfect day in late September, all the trees were changing into beautiful flowers. All their friends were there. Bobby was grilling, Ellen was supervising, her husband was who knows where. His parents, Mary’s parents, even Castiel’s father. Mary prepared a speech, with the help of Gabriel, which actually turned out to be more like stand up and then openly invited people to roast her. Everyone was rolling with laughter well into the evening when they started telling old stories as they sat around a bonfire. Eventually things quieted down and everyone left, leaving just John and Mary snuggled close unwilling to let go.

“Do you think you’ll be able to love someone else after I’m gone?” Mary asked in a voice quieter than the crackling of the fire but barely louder than the rustling of falling leaves. It hurt like a stab wound.

“I know I won’t. You’re my girl, that’s it for me.” He kissed her hair softly. 

“You’re not just saying that for me, are you? Cause I would be okay if I knew you found someone… if you could love again.” John just shook his head and tilted her chin up slightly so he could meet her eyes.

“You forget I’ve already lived through you dying once. Mary Lucille Winchester, you are the love of my life. I’m the luckiest man in all the universes to get to hold you like this, and I’m not gonna think about some future that’ll never happen. I lived it once. And when you’re-” He cleared his throat carefully, if he said it he’d cry and he’d promised her to be less weepy. “I’ll still love you when you’re gone as if you’re right next to me. Everyday. Nothing will change that.” Her eyes watered up and she pressed her face into his neck.

“I don’t wanna leave you, John. I know I should want to stay to see Lucy grow up, or to see Dean and Cas have kids, but I wanna be selfish. I don’t want to leave you.” John sighed, his breathing hitched. 

“I love you. Forever and Always.” Mary chuckled wetly against his neck. 

“Don’t start singing Shania now you corny idiot.” She pulled back and he wiped her tears away and pressed gentle kisses all over her face. “I love you, John. More than life itself. Thank you for taking care of me.”

* * *

October was when things got harder than ever. The boys were always around, Mary got thinner even though she was still beautiful. She ate less, slept more, the doctors prompted him to start thinking about moving into a hospital, but he wanted her to stay at home for as long as possible. So he set up for hospice care. When Mary’s charts dropped he had machines brought in. A nurse came by three times daily just to check everything was going okay.

The boys tried to distract them, chattering about the news. Things were going a bit crazy on the coasts. Some new drug was making people act like rabid dogs. Dean just brushed it off, but Sam was more concerned especially when towards the end of October reports were coming in from Houston of the same thing. John really didn’t give a fuck, all his attention was on Mary’s few waking hours, which were fewer and farther between. It drained him, all the background chatter, but he appreciated what they were trying to do. 

On the last week of October, in the middle of making a pot of coffee at 7am his phone rang loudly in the empty kitchen. Mary hadn’t woken up for a few days and the nurse was due in half an hour. He couldn’t fathom who would be calling him this early. The caller I.D. showed Bobby Singer, so he pressed the answer button.

“Better be a damn good reason you have, sir.”

“Good morning to you too, princess. Just checking to see if you needed anything. Decided to close the shop today, news reports have been crazy and half the boys are nervous.” John rolled his eyes, he was tired of hearing about this damn drug.

“They’re all a bunch of over reacting pansies.”

“I don’t disagree with you there.” Bobby admitted. “So did ya need anything?”

“Yeah, for you to stop calling me so early.” Bobby chuckled. 

“Alright fine, you idjit. Call me if you do though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” John said and heard the other line click. That was the first weird thing that day. The next was the nurse, who was normally perfectly on time being ten minutes late.

“Sorry, traffic was crazy. Everyone’s trying to head out of town or something.” She quickly ran through Mary’s vitals. 

“Not more people going crazy about this stupid drug.” Just said as he rubbed a hand down his face.

“It’s not just that, Mr. Winchester. They’re saying out in L.A. there was a guy who took tons of bullets and didn’t stop. Just kept coming until they finally got him in the head.” Now John had to admit _that_ was weird. Like, his old life kind of weird.

“That’s just one incident though.” The young girl just shrugged.

“I can’t think of any drug that would let you get turned into swiss cheese and you still kept going.” She said in the most confused voice and put her tools back in her bag. “See you a little after noon.” That was weird thing number two of the day.

“I swear Mary, it’s not just me falling apart without you, it’s the whole damn world.”

Mary didn’t respond, but he hadn’t expected her to. Still he picked up her limp hand and held it in his, bringing it up to his lips for a quick kiss.

By the time noon had rolled around and passed, he knew something was seriously going wonky. His entire body was tingling like there was something in the air though he mainly sat next to Mary reading quietly so he could hear if she woke up. At 2:30 he received a call from Sam that made his stomach drop.

“Dad! Dad-... Jess is… Lucy.. She-” He was hysterical and the line was filled with static. 

“Son, slow down, I can’t understand you.” He could hear Sam, broken up on the other line. He was crying, it made icy fear run through John and his fingers flexed for a weapon he no longer carried. 

“They’re _dead_ , Dad. Lucy came home from daycare, we put her down for a nap and Jess noticed this _mark_ on her. When Jess went to wake her up she _bit_ her. Her eyes were all milky and now-” He cut out again, and in the silence he heard screaming. The hairs on John’s arm raised. He couldn’t go to him, couldn’t help. He had to stay with Mary, but he wanted to be prepared. Years ago when he’d come back he’d stocked up on weapons again. Mary hadn’t liked it so he’d locked them all in the basement. Now he went down there, something was very wrong. “Dad she… I had to lock her in the bathroom. I don’t know how but I don’t think she’s… I think she’s… dead. But she’s still alive and-” There was a crashing noise.

“Sam? Sam!” He didn’t answer. “Sam, you need to get out of there and come here. But be careful it might not be safe outside.” There were more screams cut out by crackling, then the line went dead. “SAM!” John shouted, furious he hung up the phone muttering to himself. “This can’t be happening. This was my chance. This was _their chance_!” He grabbed a few knives and stored them easily, next was his pistol and a shotgun just in case. He grabbed a few boxes of ammo and out them in his pockets for good measure. He raced back up stairs to his and Mary’s bedroom, but she was still just laying there peacefully, the heart monitor showed peaks but the beeps had been turned off when it was brought in. He needed to call Dean. He picked up on the second ring.

“What’s up pops? Need something?” In the background there was a vague beeping sound. “I’m at the store right now, so I can grab you guys dinner if you want.”

“No, we don’t need that. I need you to go check on your brother, there’s been an accident and he hung up on me. I can’t leave your mother. Something’s happening and I need you to promise me you’ll be careful.” John hoped that would be enough.

“Yes sir. I’m on it.” 

“Love you, boy. Thank you.” John hung up after that, not sure if he could talk anymore without blubbing. Mary’s face was still so peaceful and beautiful, he wished she were awake to offer him comfort and calm him down like she always did. 

It was another quiet hour with only the sound of Mary’s breathing and the occasional car driving by maybe a little too fast. And there was shouting a few times. When he peaked out the window he saw a few of his neighbors, one was stuffing his car frantically while the other watered his plants.

“It’s the apocalypse man! People are killing eachother in the streets, and you’re fucking _watering_?” John didn’t hear the other man’s response; he just turned back to Mary and rubbed his temples. 

“You’re the only reminder I didn’t slip back into the universe of monsters with all this insanity.” He said as he plopped down next to her again, she jiggled slightly from the motion. He looked at her face, so pale and still so beautiful, he placed a careful hand on her cheek.

She was cool to the touch. His heart jolted painfully as his fingers went to her neck praying to any deity out there. No one was listening, he glanced up at the once bouncing green line to find only a flat stagnant thing. He pressed a hand to her cheek, checking again as if there was some mistake and her head rolled listlessly onto the pillow.

So that was it.

He choked and collapsed into her chest, felt the painful sobs wrack through him. Thinking was impossible, breathing wasn’t happening. No man should have to live through this twice and yet he had. 

“Oh Mary. My girl. My wife.” He leaned up, looking at the damp spot on her shirt and leaned up to kiss her forehead for the last time. The cool touch of her skin against his lips would haunt him for the rest of his life. Last time she’d gone in fire, this time she went in ice. _I love you_ . He mouthed to her still face, unable to speak anymore. He tried to get back on track, he needed to call the nurse, her parents, his boys... _Sam._

He hadn’t heard from him. Or Dean. The anxiety threatened to over take him, but he couldn’t let that happen. Instead he just let it fuel him, made him mad. He got up from the bed and looked out the window again. No one was around, the place looked deserted. The neighbor who had fled had left things strewn on his lawn, garage door wide open. John shook his head and turned back around to the room trying to look anywhere but where what was left of his wife laid and saw the most worrying thing: her eyes were open. 

“Mary?” He called, confused and wary. John glanced at the heart monitor which was still flatlining. Those eyes looked at him, a milky shade covering their once beautiful color and a snarl left her lips. So… this was the other _other_ shoe. “Fuck.” She started moving toward him, and despite the danger he was rooted to the spot. His hunter’s instincts were backfiring even though he knew the thing moving on the bed was no longer his wife it was still a horrifying site. She started to turn and roll but her legs were caught in the sheets, more tears dripped down his face as he pulled out his pistol, he knew where this was going.

A loud crash came from downstairs. Both him and the creature turned toward the noise. John made for the door and so did the creature, which was thankfully still tangled, so he was able to get in the hall and shut the door before it even got close. His breathing was heavy and his heart smacked around painfully, but he pushed on down the stairs.

“Who’s here? Dean? Sam?” He called hopefully. It was neither, just as he rounded into the kitchen Castiel stepped out of the mudroom. His shirt was torn in multiple places, his eyes red rimmed and he was shaking. “Cas? Where’s Dean?” _This could not be happening, his sons were stronger than this_ . John thought to himself, fighting off the crippling sense of utter despair. A voice deep in his mind whispered cruely _maybe the other ones were, but these ones were normal_. Cas threw himself into John’s arms, openly sobbing. It was all the answer he needed. He shook so bad John thought he would vibrate right out of his skin. “I’ve got you, son.” Cas nodded and pulled back trying to gather himself. 

“He’s… in the impala. I drove us here because… when we went to check on Sam, he-... It wasn’t good, he’s-” Cas swallowed thickly. “Dean got bit. And he’s really sick now. I don’t know what to do.” John squeezed his shoulder.

“Let’s get him in the house first and we’ll figure out what to do after that.” Together they went out to the driveway, John glanced warily up and down his street, in the distance that was roughly the direction of downtown Lawrence he saw a plume of dark smoke. Dean sat in the passenger side, a dark red rag held to his neck. 

“Dean, we’re gonna get you in the house. You still okay?” Cas asked, hands checking for other injuries besides the meat missing from his neck. Dean nodded weakly.

“Can’t get rid of me that fast, sunshine.” And he flashed Cas a smile, Cas just sighed at his husband. 

“Let’s go, wise-ass.” John told his son as he reached into the car and helped Cas lift under Dean’s shoulders. He was fading fast, not able to help them walk him inside. They got to the living room and he let the two boys sit on the couch. Cas held Dean well John went and got another rag. When he came back he made Dean let go of the wound and John’s stomach turned. He pressed the new towel to his son’s neck and grimaced at Cas. He no longer had the energy to put up a face, especially not with his bedroom door rattling upstairs.

“What’s the deal, Doc?” Dean asked, slightly slurring his words. John shook his head though Dean couldn’t see it, and Cas leaned in to kiss his forehead, more tears leaking from the man’s bright blue eyes. Dean must have taken the silence as an answer, because the next moment he moved on. “I figure it’s not great. Also, what the hell is that noise?” John swallowed thickly.

“Your mother.” John said quietly, Cas scrubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes. “Or what was. It’s not her anymore.” Dean turned his gaze to his father, sad eyes head droping into the back of the couch. 

“I tried to save, Sammy. But he was already one of those when I got there. I didn’t know what to do and he…” Dean trailed off, winced and coughed roughly, blood dribbled down his chin.

“It’s okay son, you did your best.” Dean huffed a disagreement at that but didn’t seem to have the energy to refute further. “Son, I’m about to lose you too and I need you to be straight with me. You want out before you turn into one of those things, you say the word.” Dean and Cas were both quiet, Cas gaped at him somewhere between furious and shocked. “Or you turn, and we’ll… take care of it then.”

“No, no. I don’t want that.” Dean winced and John felt more tears come to his eyes, he wasn’t even sure how he still had any left. Dean turned to Cas. “Give us a moment, Dad.” John nodded and the door upstairs shook a little harder than before. He pulled the knife from his boot and left it on the table.

“I need to go…. take care of that.” As he stood he passed care of the rag off to Cas who carefully wrapped himself around his husband. 

“Happy Anniversary.” Dean said in the most sardonic tone he could manage.

“Shut the fuck up, you idiot.” Cas said through a watery and surprised laugh.

“You love me anyway.” Dean told him and booped him on the nose.

“Yes, I do.” That was the last thing John heard as he ascended the stairs. Up here the rattling was louder, not stronger though just persistent. John squeezed his eyes shut, rolled his shoulders back. Dropping back into his hunter instincts was easy, like a well worn boot that gave him blisters but served him well. He tried to turn it off, the connection between his brain and his heart. It wouldn’t help him now. His sons were dead and dying, his wife was dead too. But he still had people, he still had family. He needed to find them and protect them, because it’s what was right and because he needed them. 

So he kicked in the door, sending the thing that was once his wife flying back onto the bed. He went in and kneeled on it’s chest and pressed a hand to it’s forehead. The teeth snapped dangerously, animalistic noises coming out of its throat. He watched a tear drop down onto her face as she struggled beneath him. Three and a half years of peace and happiness, only for it to come to this. He slid the knife into her brain through her ear, hearing the sickening squelch and all it once she went still again. His chest was burning, apparently he had stopped breathing. As the air rushed back into his lungs the pain of it all flooded his system. John moved mechanically, adjusting his wife’s body to a proper position on the bed. Carefully he tucked her in and with her eyes shut again he could pretend for only a moment that she was still sleeping. He left the room. 

Back downstairs Cas was sobbing and Dean had passed out onto his shoulder.

“H-He asked me to do it.” Cas told him, the knife was in his left hand, his right still wrapped around Dean’s shoulder. His eldest son breathed softly in his husband’s arms, his face having a sick greyish sheen from the blood loss.

“Do you know what to do?” John asked his son-in-law, who nodded weakly. Cas’ gaze went to Dean’s face. The hand holding the knife delicately used a knuckle to trace the contours of his face. Cas didn’t say anything, just pressed a kiss to his Dean’s temple and lined up the knife at the back of his skull at a slanted angle. Cas put his cheek against Dean’s hair and pressed the knife up so swiftly John didn’t even blink before it was done. In the space of a few hours his whole life had folded in on him again, but this time it was worse. John felt the tears on his cheeks slow, Cas was still holding Dean even as his body slowly slumped away from him. “Let me put him upstairs with his mother.” John said and stepped forward, Cas nodded but couldn’t let go. John carefully unpeeled the boys fingers and scooped his son up in his arms. Cas couldn’t look anymore, he buried his face in the couch as John took Dean up the stairs and lay him next to his mother. This was something he hadn’t done in what felt like eons, he wanted to pretend, to remember those moments instead. The times where his song fell asleep downstairs and he had to carry him to bed. The times where he crawled into bed with his mother and father. Not this, anything but this. 

He took the same care he had with Mary but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her again. Minutes or hours passed, it was hard to tell in that haze of pain, but eventually he went back down the stairs and found Castiel in the same position. At the sound of John’s feet he sat up and John sat across from him.

“What do we do?” Cas’ voice was a tiny, shattered thing and John understood it. He didn’t know how he was functioning.

“We survive, because they’ll be pissed at us if we don’t try.” John told him. Cas nodded, a few stray tears went down his face and he wiped them away trying to get it together. 

“Where do we start?” 

“We find who we can, then we start moving. Find a place we can fortify. Hope the entire world doesn’t go to shit.” 

“What are they anyway, some kind of… Eaters?” John blinked at that, he’d thought it was obvious.

“They’re Zombies.” Cas tilted his head.

“Is that something you learned in your Monster Dreams?” 

“No, kid. Haven’t you heard of Resident Evil? Night of the Living Dead?” Cas just shook his head. “The Cranberries song of the same name? Micheal Jackson’s _Thriller_ music video?” Cas just looked more confused.

“He never had a song called Thriller, what are you going on about?” John took a moment to let that information sink in and wondered how he had missed that before. 

“You tellin’ me you’ve never heard of a zombie before? Or even people who come back to life after they die and just want to eat other people?” Cas just shook his head gravely.

“No, I’ve never heard of a zombie.” John just sighed.

“Well, that’s what they are.”

* * *

They were everywhere. However this had happened, it had spiraled quickly and John had been too busy with Mary to even pay attention to the signs. He should be mad at himself, but he knew he couldn’t have done anything differently. They couldn’t find anyone and every place they went was more dangerous than the last. No Harvelle’s, No Singer’s, No Campbell’s, No Winchester Seniors. One by one his entire family had crumbled. They checked for Cas’ family too, but they were pretty spread out and seeing as the phone lines had gone down he had no way to know about any of them. They had each other, a most unlikely pair. At least Cas wasn’t completely useless, what with all that fight training over the years. After searching for anyone they knew and coming up dry, they headed back to the Winchester house. The silence was deafening and someone how they came to the silent agreement that they would rest tonight and in the morning they’d get to work. John found wood in the garage and the shed to nail to the front windows, Cas got to work using the dining room table to fortify the back door and windows. When they were done John grabbed sleeping bags from the basement and they both passed out on the floor with weapons next to them. Neither wanted to sleep on the couch that still had Dean’s blood on it.

Morning came, bright and chilled like most late autumn mornings did. He told Cas he wanted to give his son and his wife a hunter’s funeral. But Cas pointed out the obvious.

“Starting a fire that big would just attract more of those things.” John sighed and nodded.

“Then we bury them and move on.” John told him, they went up the stairs hating every moment. He blocked out most sensory things. He showed Cas how to wrap Dean while he wrapped Mary, after everything in the past 24 hours they weren’t crying, they’d moved on to a stage worse than that: numbness. Two widowers walked down the stairs with bundles in their arms and went through the garage to the back door. Everything was quiet and still, but the crunching of their feet through the leaves was deafening. They laid them under a tree and John got shovels for both of them. In under an hour they had dug sufficient holes and placed the bundles in them for a final goodbye.

John let his heart ache, let the pain course through him because he was still alive, he needed to feel it. Cas looked more disheveled than ever, his shirt still bloodstained from yesterday, his wild dark hair stuck up at odd ends with different smudges of dirt or blood. Yesterday hadn’t been easy on either of them, in fact it wouldn’t be easy ever again, but Cas looked worse than that even. As if his light had gone out. John put a hand on his shoulder.

“We have to keep going, son. Or they’ll come back just to kick our asses.” Cas laughed through a sniffle as tears dropped down his face, John couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t give in that far. 

“What’s the point though? If we keep going in a world like _this_ ? This doesn’t end tomorrow, or next week, or even next year. This is the _apocalypse_ for fuck’s sake.” He paced away from John, kicking up leaves in his frustration as he got louder. John didn’t know how to argue with him, his own world hadn’t gone to shit quite like this and it would be so easy to give into that voice telling him to give up. He felt cowardly for even thinking it, or maybe he was more cowardly for not being able to do it. “I’m gonna go get something from the impala, I think he’d like it.” Cas shuffled around the corner of the house back towards the front since they’d boarded up the back door. A deep sigh left John and he shoved his hands in his pockets, _what was the point of next?_ He wondered to himself and his mind drifted to his two boys he’d never see again. Sam and Dean, the ones he’d raised as hunters, would never give up on their world. John knew they were still fighting, so he had to try too. Saving People, hunting things. 

A cry of pain sounded from the front of the house and it turned into a scream. John jolted into action, grabbing a shovel off the ground and he ran to the front of the house. Cas was in the back seat of the impala, three zombies surrounded the car… and one had his leg. Cas cried out again, trying to kick the thing off of him, John swung at the other two clawing at the classic car, smacking their skulls open with a sickening crack. On the second one the handle splintered, so John broke it over his knee as he came and shoved the fractured handle up through the chin and into the head of the undead woman making a chew toy out of Cas’ leg. It was over in a few moments.

“Fuck.” Cas cried, reaching for his leg. Winding up the leg of his jeans revealed the most nasty weeping meatloaf John had ever seen.

“Shit.” John responded and locked eyes with Cas, they both knew what this meant, and Castiel had already accepted it. His head dropped back onto the leather seat. John threw the broken shovel handle to the ground with a clatter. “God damnit, kid.” John’s eyes stung but he refused to cry, he’d been alone before. He could do this. Cas sat up and scooted forward, wincing in pain. He held a cassette tape in his hand which he held out to John now, seeing it made John want to laugh and cry at the same time. _Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx_. John handed it back to Cas who smirked a little bit.

“You should go east, try to reach Mt. Weather.” Cas suggested but John just scoffed.

“I’ll figure it out.” He offered a hand to his son-in-law, feeling his heart squeeze tighter in his chest. “Any last requests? We should probably get inside since we made an awful lot of noise just then.” Cas nodded and grabbed the offered hand, John put his arm under his shoulder to help him limp inside. It was easy enough to plop him in one of the dining room chairs when the table was preoccupied, Cas groaned as he leaned back.

“Can we listen to it? And maybe… if you have any ice cream?” John chuckled lightly and reached in the freezer. The power hadn’t gone out yet, so everything in there was still good. He remembered how him and Mary had shared a bowl just last week. She’d only managed a few bites in the short time she’d been awake and still managed to get it on his nose. 

“Probably the last time I’m gonna have this for a long time, so we might as well.” He set the cardboard container on the counter and pulled out two bowls and spoons, scooping out five scoops for each of them. With no table he just passed Cas his bowl, then left the room to bring the boombox into the kitchen. Cas passed him the tape and John set it in and pressed play. He kept the volume low, just to be safe, but the sounds filled the empty kitchen well anyway. John leaned against the counter, savoring the neapolitan ice cream and his eldest son’s favorite band. Cas became paler as he lost more blood, but he finished all his ice cream. By the time the track ran out both men had been sitting with empty bowls just listening for at least three songs. In the silence after John stared blankly at the wall as the numbness settled across him again, Cas speaking startled him out of his reverie. 

“I know it was hard for you... to accept us.” Cas spoke with his ever deeper gravel voice, then he coughed a bit. “But it meant the world for Dean that you tried, that you still saw him as your son. My mother disowned me, most of my siblings followed her lead, they’re all religious pricks.” More coughing, John grimaced at the sound and waited patiently for him to continue. “And you accepted me. So thank you, John. I know I wasn’t what you pictured for your son.” John hadn’t realized that his actions, even homophobic and bigoted as they were in the beginning, still made a difference compared to how else this man had been treated. Like Mary said, he had tried, that was what made it good.

“Maybe not what I thought you’d look like, but you were everything I hoped he’d have. That’s all that mattered. I just feel stupid that it took me till your wedding day for me to see that.” Cas nodded and looked down at his fingers.

“That was a good day, wasn’t it?”

“The best.”

“They both loved you, so much. You did good by them, even if you only remember these last three years, you did good.” John didn’t respond to that, he couldn’t think about his sons then, or speak about them. He had to stay strong for what came next.

“I’m ready. And I can do it myself. You’ve done enough, John. You don’t need this on you too. Just… help me outside?” So they hobbled outside together and John helped Cas on the edge of Dean’s grave. It made sense not to dig another hole and it was where Castiel wanted to put himself to rest anyway. The pistol passed between their hands, John flicked off the safety for him. 

“You’re sure about this, Cas?” John asked, looking in his eyes for what may be the last time and squeezing his shoulder. Cas held his gaze and nodded back, it was mid afternoon now, the air was slightly warmer than it had been that morning when they dug the graves. 

“I want you to cover us up and get out of here, go find other people. Whatever crazy other life you lived in that coma made you stronger than the rest of us, you need to go help others or at least try.” John nodded, he didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t really said goodbye to his wife or his son’s. But he would try.

“Thank you for loving him.” John whispered then he stood up and walked back around the corner. The sun hit the reds and yellows of the trees, a slight wind rustled a few more loose and they floated to the ground, it was surreal imagery considering. The shot rang out in the autumn quiet making his ears ring, John turned and hit the siding a few times, unwilling tears slipped out of his eyes. He had to get control of himself, that sound was sure to attract undead. He pushed himself to work, he rounded the corner into the backyard again and saw his pistol laying in between the two graves. Now it seemed weirdly fitting that there was only one good shovel left as John went to work piling dirt onto what was left of his family. Once that was done he found two plain boards and carved headstones for the three of them, Castiel and Dean shared one. He wished he could go find his other son and do the same for him, but he knew it was too dangerous and despite everything he wasn’t determind to run a suicide mission. 

By the time he was done the sun was casting a dim orange glow into the backyard. He dejectedly decided to stay in the house one more night, but it was difficult. The quiet of it screamed at him. He moved the impala into the garage and messed with the engine just enough so no one would take her, she wasn’t practical moving forward in these uncertain times, but maybe one day he could come back for her. He buried the keys in an old jewelry box at the head of his son’s grave, and he put the Zepp tape back into the box in the back seat. Sometime during the afternoon’s events the power had quit, so John packed what he could of the non perishables, and a few things that would last for at least the next few days of the produce, into the truck. The road ahead of him was long and he didn’t sleep much on that final night in his home. 

One of the many nights since he’d come here, one where he’d snuggled with Mary into the early hours of the morning after a late movie night, a foolish thought had crossed his mind. That some benevolent deity in their wisdom had seen to grant him mercy, to give him what he’d never had. Now he knew the truth though. Nothing ever hurt so bad as knowing how good things could be and having that all taken away.

* * *

This new world was not brave, it was brutal, deadly, and thoroughly disappointing. He’d set out that morning hoping to find other individuals like him, strong enough to make it through at least the next few weeks. He met a kid that first day out, he lost him not even an hour later. His name was Jeremy. After that he made a choice to head east, he took Cas’ suggestion and would make a go for Mt. Weather. What the fuck right? He might even meet the president if he made it through this. Obama seemed like a chill guy, and strong too. 

He avoided people for a while, till he needed gas and he had a run in with the people whose tank he was siphoning. He joined up with them for a while, till one night they were at their campfire and got swarmed. Honestly, he should have expected it. He snagged the leader’s bat as he went down with one of the undead and used that to get himself out and back to his truck. It was a solid wood thing, really nice. Somehow it reminded him of Mary and the little league baseball teams he coached since coming to this universe. She loved the sport more than he did. It was nice to think she was looking our for him, even though he had never believed in that shit.

It happened again and again, he would meet people, get to know them, he lost them. They’re all weak and useless which made him more and more angry. He stopped introducing himself to them, he didn’t see the point. All they ever did was die anyway. He told the last girl as much when she admitted she’d been bitten, and he left her. He could do this alone if he had to, none of these people meant anything anyway. He stopped trying to find people, and one day as he’s cooking a rabbit he shot over his campfire when he heard a noise that was too careful to be an undead bastard.

“Things sneakin’ up on me in the dark are either dead or about to be.” He warned, pointing his rifle into the dark. A scruffy man in a vest with a crossbow hanging across his back emerged a few moments later with his hands up.

“C’mon… You weren’t going to eat that whole thing by yourself, were you?” The man eyed the rabbit for a moment and then looked back at him. “I’m Dwight. You look like you could use some company.” He considered this, not really liking the sound of another whoever hanging around, but his weapon…

“That a crossbow?”

“Yeah, sure is.” He tilted his head to consider.

“Let me hold that fucker while we eat and half a rabbit is coming your way.” Dwight easily passed over the weapon in exchange for the food, taking that as invitation enough to sit down. “These arrows… they reusable?” 

“Yeah. Couple times. Maybe three... As long as you can get them back.” Dwight chewed for a moment and then added, “And they’re called _bolts._ ” They finished their food and then Dwight led him off into the forest, taking him to the camp. John honestly didn’t even know why he was doing it, it was a stupid move that would just lead him to more people who would only die. So when Dwight tried to introduce him to his merry band of misfits, John stopped him. 

“No point. I’ll learn their names if they live more than a few days.” Despite his attitude he appreciated being brought in by these people, they didn’t need to do this, but they accepted him and his bad attitude easily. At this point everyone just assumed we all had a fuck ton of baggage. Together with this new group they found a hotel, and even though he hadn’t wanted to he’d started to remember their names, it had been a few weeks by that point and his guard had started to drop again which was incredibly stupid. 

One day they were overrun, middle of the day a whole herd of the undead swarmed the hotel and something in him snapped. He didn’t want to lose people again, they were all separated but he started calling out orders, directions to move, just like he did with his team not that long ago. Somehow they made it, with him swinging his bat like a mad man and everyone else following his plays, they all made it out alive. It was a first for him, even if he’d almost died toward the end of the process, something in him had decided to care again. It didn’t feel familiar though, it felt stiff. He didn’t care if it was genuine, he simply did not want to be alone anymore. Starting over was tiring.

It was a simple thing, him leading the group. After the near death experience they all seemed to trust him more, he still hadn’t told them his name, but that didn’t seem to matter. His suggestions were all logical, and only Dwight ever really conferred with him on any ideas. It was nice, surprisingly. The same day he told them his name, was the same day he found a cool new leather jacket. Everyday he felt further and further from the soft crybaby of a pussy he’d become as a family man, which led him closer and closer to a life only barely adjacent to the one he’d lived as a hunter. No connections, no emotions, just a rude, crass, and bossy son of a bitch. The cool black leather and decorative silver zippers seemed to say just that. 

“You’ve got pretty comfortable telling us what to do. What were you… y’know...before?” Dwight asked him as they exited the store where everyone had stocked up on warmer clothing under his direction.

“I was a bad motherfucker. And by that I mean I owned a mechanic shop and coached little league. You care for the kids, bark orders at them to keep them from getting fat… they may cry a little but it’s for their own fucking good y’know? You assholes are growing on me… I don’t want you to get yourselves killed.” 

“Fair enough, Coach… what?” Dwight asked, giving him an opportunity. He’d thought about it for days… what story he’d tell people, what he’d want to be called now that he wasn’t really John Winchester anymore. Going undercover had been a simple thing for him once when he was a hunter, he knew how to be a convincing liar, this time would just be more permanent. 

“Negan. But don’t call me coach. Makes it sound like you got some weird ass kink you haven’t told Sherry about yet.” Dwight chuckled a bit at that.

“Think we should spend the night here or get a move on?” Dwight asked, but movement around the corner of the building caught his eye.

“Hold that thought. Looks like we’re not the only ones who decided to go shopping today.” With that the newly decreed Negan plastered on the biggest ass smile. “Greetings folks. Come on in, more than plenty for all of us.” He held his arms out, trying to be as non threatening as possible. Didn’t matter cause the leader, scruffy McScarfy face pointed his gun straight into his face.

“Don’t move.” John wanted to laugh.

“Okay look, you’re scared of _us_? Is that a thing? We’re not dead… we have all our teeth and our eyes aren’t hanging out… So what’s the deal?” He paused for a moment but their was no response. “Maybe put the fucking gun down and talk instead, okay?” The guy considered him.

“I’d really like to. How do I know we can trust you?” Negan’s anger flared at the guys biting tone.

“Listen asshole. I greeted you with a smile and you pointed a fucking gun at _me_ . We have guns too but we don’t aim them at the living, trust me on _that_.” His fists were clenching watching this fucker, but after a moment he lowered the weapon.

“You know what? I really like this guy.” Scruffy holstered his gun. “Where you people headed to next?” Just like that John had successfully combined two groups and was surrounded by double the people. Later that night, he was talking to Dwight off to the side of a fire where everyone sat.

“This is good. Safety in numbers. We can really do some damage… maybe go back and clean out that hotel or find a better place… Whatever.” He was distracted by one of the newcomers, a young girl with short hair shivering even next to the fire. These days he might be a total shit mouth, but he still knew how to be chivalrous. The jacket slid off his shoulders easily. “You cold? Take this. I’ll go find you a blanket.” The girl jumped away from him, loooking startled and afraid to meet his eyes. “Easy girl, I don’t bite.” He told her as he set the jacket onto her shoulders, but she didn’t relax. 

“You like what you see?” It was the scruffy fuck again. “You want to try the merchandise? Just let me know. Trust me man, it’s a whole new world now. Anything goes.” The fucker sounded so proud and excited, but his words made something inside John snap. That last piece of him that wanted or hoped for something better died. Anger and fury flooded his system, right next to the familiar vengeance he’d lived with for most of his life.

“What are you saying exactly?” Negan said in a low threatening tone.

“C’mon man. You know.” Negan stood up, moved into this guys space, the fire crackled to the side of him and he just knew all eyes were on him in that moment.

“Yeah, I think I do. I have to say I have a real fucking problem with it too. I know what it’s like to have loved a woman. Emphasis on _loved_ . You lost someone close to you?” He took a moment to breathe in and clench his fists which served to stave off whatever part of him wanted to drown at his own harsh words. He couldn’t give a fuck anymore. It didn’t _matter_ anymore. What mattered was shit like this not happening. “Even if you haven’t you should still be aware of the fucking world around you. It’s _us_ against _them_ , right? So shouldn’t we try to treat **us** a little better? If you’ll do that with a woman well… maybe you’re closer to _them_ than I’d like. I mean you either value a human fucking life or you _don’t,_ **_right_ ** ?” His fury knew no bounds at that point. “Whatever you guys were doing it stops _now._ Or this is where we part ways.”

“OH you’re running things now?! You’re gonna tell us what we can and can’t do with our women? Fuck you man!” The idiot jumped him, and it wasn’t the attack that surprised him, it was how he went for his neck that threw him off balance and into the pile of barbwire. It hurt like a bitch, made Negan grunt in pain but this wouldn’t fucking continue anymore. Even as his skin split open as easily as you’d crush a tomato he sprung into action. His bat sat against the wall behind him. Both him and this disgusting fuck reached for it, but of course Negan got there first and swung it into his fucking skull. He didn’t stop there though, he kept going, just how his skin had sliced and broke apart so did what little kept him from the pure rage inside him about this fucking world. He noticed a few men of this other group started to approach him, weapons wielded.

“Stay the fuck back or you’re next!” He shouted at them and gave a final swing to the skull of the misogynistic, abusive piece of shit. His eyeball popped out and rolled slightly away from the mess that once could have been called a head. “I know that was a little startling.” Negan addressed the group without facing them, their utter silence was enough to know they were listening. “Truth is I probably got a little carried away. But it couldn’t be helped.” He turned to them slightly, looking over his shoulder, the fire still crackled away casting ominous shadows on him. “You scared? Scared of me? Scared of _dying_?” He turned fully around as they all stared at him, he checked his wounds for a moment and noticed the girl on the ground wearing his jacket.

“Sorry, I don’t quite know how this plays out and I like this coat.” He grabbed it gently and slid into it again. In a swift motion he wiped some of the gore off the bat into the grass on the ground and looked back up at the pale faces before him. “You’re fucking scared, huh?” He leveled the bat at them. “You fucking should be.” Then he set the bat down, leaned it against his thigh and pulled out the leather gloves he’d found. “You guys look like you’re on a nonstop bullet train to pee pants city. Like you can’t even process… you can’t… give me a minute.” Something was forming here, he was shaping it to guard against his own future and it had to be just right. He spotted the barbwire he’d fallen into on the ground. “Sit tight. Dwight, don’t let them move.” Dwight herded everyone back a bit as Negan grabbed some of the barbed wire and kneeled next to the fire. He took a moment to notice his hands were shaking, what he had done was catching up with him. He’d never just killed a man like that. It had always been monsters. Demons, vamps, ghouls, were’s, wendigo, shapeshifters, djinn, not humans. Never humans, they were the ones he was supposed to be saving.

Guess some of them were past saving. He couldn’t undo it and he didn’t want to, that fucker had deserved every bit of it. Thoughts of it all cemented in his brain as he wrapped the barbed wire tightly around the baseball bat. This was him now. He was making this choice. He was leaving John Winchester behind him, that wouldn’t serve him again. Not like he’d ever be able to stop thinking about his sons, or Mary, or the rest of his family… but no one else would ever get to know them. They wouldn’t get to know him. He rose a new man, a stronger one who turned back to the group and addressed them again.

“Okay, how we doing?” No one responded. “You guys are all scared. You’re on edge. You probably got no idea what’s up or down, or whether to run or to stay the fuck put. I get it.” He paused now with the fire behind him and his bat posed on his shoulder. “It’s time I told you about… Lucille.” He paused, let out a sigh, closed his eyes and carried on. “Lucille meant everything to me. I didn’t even know it at the time. Not all the time, at least. There were moments, but for the most part… I was a piece of shit. It wasn’t until she was gone that I really knew what she meant to me. I lost her when all this shit started. I was surrounded by the dead… and survivors. _‘Survivors’..._ That wasn’t something they stayed. Not for any legnth of time. Never actually _earned_ that title, ya feel me? Truth is I met nothing but a long line of people who couldn’t push things just a little bit harder for those they loved.” Negan began to pace in front of the group, a slow casual swagger. “They cracked. People died. _They_ died. Weak people. _Scared people_ . Maybe people like you. I don’t know yet, we’re going to find out…. I learned something, being around those people. Watching them die, one after the other… Because they were too _weak_ … too _scared_ … too mother fucking _sad._ ” Then he stopped, stood up straight and gestured to himself. “And me? Well… I felt nothing. Not for them. Not for myself. Not for _anyone_ .” Negan let that sink in for a moment, letting the lie marinate like the truth of a good steak which he wouldn’t be having anytime soon. “I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t angry… well… _sometimes_ I was angry. Sometimes I was furious but for the most part… nothing. It took me a long time to realize why.” He swung the bat off his shoulder, holding it out in front of him the long way, his gaze going over the new most deadly addition. 

“It was _Lucille._ She protected me. She placed me in a bubble where nothing got to me. She made me stronger, helped me survive.” He held the bat strong above his head. “ ** _This_** is Lucille. Instead of watching you fucks die like I have so many other weak mother fuckers along the way… I have a new idea. I’ll let Lucille protect you too.” He lowered Lucille down again and met each pair of eyes in the group. “Stand with me and anyone who tries to hurt us… anyone who gets in our way… will end up like him.” Negan gestured to the sad meatloaf fucker on the ground. “So far you’ve been survivors, that’s the best you can hope for. Your leader is dead, and he was _a fucking asshole_ anyway. You can fight us… but you wouldn’t win. We consolidate supplies, protect eachother, we can make this work. But let me be clear, you work for _us_ now.” He paused and stood his ground, flames danced toward the sky just at his leather clad back. “We’re your **_Saviours_** _._ ” The idea settled over the group, there was a few muttered things too low for him to hear, and that was fine. Discussion was allowed to happen.

“Are you _crazy_? How do you expect us to watch you murder one of our own, and then turn around and fall in line behind you?!” Asked a man from the crowd who attempted to glare Negan down, Negan just smirked.

“Look at this Big Balled motherfucker right here. I like that, that’s useful, so here’s what I’d say, Big Balls. Fall _the fuck_ in line or I’ll crawl up that pee hole of yours, get really deep inside so I can get a message to those Big Balls without anything getting lost in translation. And I’ll say… Big Balls, I know you think you’re the King Shit of Fuck Mountain and you’re not accustomed to taking shit from anyone but things are _different_ now because…

**_Negan’s here._ **”

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you made it to the end of this exceptionally long prologue, tell me what you think!! Next chapter will start from the moment Dean and Sam crash through the universal walls. Until then I'd love to hear from you all. I hope you are safe and well. I know the world is a crazy place right now, but we got this. 
> 
> Sincerely,  
> Seralina


End file.
